Pearl Harbor

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Milo James Ross military medals

I previously wrote about the plaque that hung on my Grandparents’ wall in Plain City, Utah. The photo in the center of the plaque showed Milo James Ross receiving the Silver Star by Major General Clarkson.

Milo James Ross WWII medals, clippings, and photo

Before Grandpa passed away, the Army was gearing up to do a more formal presentation of his medals as some of them were just given to him without much fanfare. Apparently some of them deserved a bit more formal recognition. Initially, we were gearing up for Independence Day 2014. However, some things grind slowly forward. We were then talking about some dates in August 2014 and September 2014. Unfortunately, Grandpa passed away 17 July 2014.

In preparation for the more formal presentation, the military gave new copies of some of the medals he had already received and the others he had not yet received. We took those and put them in a shadow box for his funeral. Here is a photo we took of the box before putting it behind glass.

I am not clear on the medals and what they each mean. His obituary lists a number of his medals that were awarded to him.

His obituary included this Army service information:

“Milo enlisted in the Army in October 1942.  He served in the 33 rd Infantry Division, 130 th Regiment, Company C.  He trained in weapons and earned his expert ranking.  He arrived in Hawaii in July 1943 and received the announcement that his son, Milo Paul, had been born.  He served as part of the Philippine invasion force and they fought through the jungles and liberated Baguio City.  He was injured five times, one while tending to other soldiers awaiting medical attention.

“He was present at the Japanese surrender at Luzon as a Technical Sergeant in June 1945.  He received two purple hearts and the Silver Star for his service at the end of World War II.  His Company received a Presidential Citation for outstanding performance during armed conflict with the enemy in efforts to seize Hill X in Bilbil Mountain Province.  At the time of Milo’s death, the military was preparing to award him another Purple Heart, another Silver Star, Bronze Star, Good Conduct Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Campaign Medal & Bronze Star, World War II Victory Medal, Combat Infantry Badge 1 st Award, Philippine Liberation Ribbon and Bronze Star, Honorable Service Button for World War II.  He was also to be awarded the Philippine Liberation Medal and Republic of the Philippines Presidential Unit Citation Badge from the Philippine Government.

The UofU Commemoration placard for Grandpa in 2009

The 2009 University of Utah Veterans Commemoration included this excerpt about Grandpa:

“Milo James Ross was drafted into the army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He was sent to Fort Douglas and shipped out that same day to Fort Lewis, Washington. For the next two months, he went through a weapons platoon crash course. He trained on machine guns, mortars, and hand launchers. Ross quickly earned expert ranking on these weapons. Following basic training, Ross’s unit was sent to Barstow, California. Their training focused on digging fox holes.

“Ross soon shipped out to the Hawaiian Islands, leaving behind his young pregnant wife. As his unit landed on the big island of Hawaii on July 4, 1942, a voice on the loud speaker said, “Sergeant Ross, congratulations. Your wife and son are doing well, and, one more thing, before you get off the ship you and your men have guard duty for the next four hours. Welcome to Hawaii.”

“After a long training in Hawaii, Ross’s unit, “C” Company, 130 Infantry Regiment, 33rd Infantry Division, became part of the Philippine invasion force. They hit the beach in Lingayen Gulf and intensely fought their way through jungles and mountains to the inland city of Baguio.

“Ross was wounded while tending other soldiers who were awaiting medical attention. He spent two months in a hospital while recovering from shrapnel wounds all over his body.

“The day after Ross returned to his unit, they jumped into three months of fighting that only ended with the Japanese surrender at Luzon in June, 1945.

“Company C, 130th Infantry Regiment was awarded a Presidential Unit Citation for outstanding performance of duty and superb courage during armed conflict with the enemy in their efforts to seize Hill X in the Bilbil Mountain Province in the Philippines. For his service, Ross was awarded the Purple Heart and the Silver Star.

The same shadowbox on display at his funeral

BYU Library – Special Collections has this biography and reference citation of Grandpa:

“Milo James Ross (1921-2014) was a World War II veteran who fought in the Pacific battles.

“Milo Ross was born February 4, 1921 just north of Plain City, Utah to John Jack William Ross and Ethel Sharp Ross. When Milo was barely four, his mother passed away in childbirth. Milo and his siblings were cared for by their maternal grandparents until financial strains forced Milo to be raised by his uncle, Edward Sharp, in Plain City, Utah. He grew up farming with his cousins and attended the local schools, eventually graduating from Weber High in 1939. In 1940, at a Plain City celebration, Milo met Gladys Maxine Donaldson and two years later, on April 4, 1942, they were married in her parents’ home in Ogden, Utah. The October of that same year, Milo enlisted in the United States Army at Fort Douglas, Utah, becoming a member of the 33rd Infantry Division, 130th Regiment, Company C. After training they were sent to Needles, California handling freight, setting up tents and digging trenches and then on to Hawaii for further training. When they arrived in Hawaii, on July 4, 1943, Ross was informed his son, Milo Paul, had been born that very same day. Ross’s company was assigned to become part of the Philippine invasion force where they fought in New Guinea and Luzon. They fought through the jungles, liberated Baguio City, was present at the Japanese surrender in Luzon in June 1945, and left Ross injured on five separate occasions.

“Milo Ross was honorably discharged in September of 1945. He was honored with two Purple Hearts, the Silver Star, and the Presidential Citation for outstanding performance. Returning home, Milo worked remodeling homes. He also had two daughters: Judy Ethel and Caroline. Gladys and Milo solemnized their marriage July 2, 1976 in the Ogden Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Gladys died in 2004.

“Milo James Ross died in Plain City, Utah on July 17, 2014 at the age of 93.

Citation:

“Standard examiner, via WWW, March 2, 2018 (Milo James Ross; born February 4, 1921 in a log cabin north of Plain City to John Jack William Ross and Ethel Sharp Ross; mother tragically died from childbirth in 1925; Milo and his siblings lived with Ross grandparents until the costs proved too great and his Uncle Edward Sharp raised Milo in Plain City until adulthood; He attended schools in Plain City and graduated from Weber High in 1939; farmed with sharp cousins; Gladys Maxine Donaldson at a Plain City celebration in 1940; married April 4, 1942 in her parent’s home on 8th Street in Ogden; enlisted in the Army in October 1942; 33rd Infantry Division, 130th Regiment, Company C; Philippine invasion force and they fought through the jungles and liberated Baguio City; injured five times; present at the Japanese surrender at Luzon as a Technical Sergeant in June 1945; two Purple Hearts and the Silver Star; Presidential Citation for outstanding performance; He returned home in 1945 and worked remodeling homes; children Milo Paul, Judy Ethel and Caroline; solemnized their marriage July 2, 1976 in the Ogden LDS Temple; died in Plain City on July 17, 2014)

“UPB files, March, 2, 2018 (Milo James Ross; born Feb. 4, 1921 in Plain City, Utah; Joined army Oct. 1942 at Fort Douglas, Utah; fought in new Guinea and Luzon; sent to Needles, California handling freight, setting up tents and digging trenches; sent to Hawaii and landed July 4, 1943 where he received news his son had been born that very same day; wife passed away in 2004 and daughter on 1998)

The new medals shadowbox on display at his funeral
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Jonas History: Gaylen, Melvin, and John Jonas

This is another chapter of the Jonas history book compiled by Carvel Jonas. “The Joseph Jonas clan of Utah (including – early Jonas family history; early Nelson family history)” This one is on Gaylen Thompson Jonas, Melvin Andersen Jonas, and John Irvin Jonas.

“Gaylen Thompson Jonas

“Melvin Andersen Jonas

“John Irvin Jonas [all my family history records show his name as Irwin John Jonas, not John Irvin]

“The above three Jonas boys were killed during World War 2 within two months and eight days of each other. Each was a grandson of Joseph and Annette Josephine Jonas, and each is a son with a different father. Melvin was a son of John Nelson and Armina Jonas. Gaylen was a son of William Nelson and Mary Jonas. Irvin was the son of Joseph Nelson and Lillian Jonas [I wrote about a post about Irwin exactly 10 years ago, then the 70th Anniversary of D-Day]. Gaylen never married. Melvin and Irvin married. Irvin was the only one of these three to have any children. He had one son, whose name was Irvin [Robert Irwin Jonas (1944-2019)], and only one grandson who was killed in a car accident when he was 16 years old [Robert Irwin Jonas II (1965-1983)]. Also, grandpa Joseph Jonas had a brother, William, who had a grandson who was also killed in the war [Melvin Paul Jonas (1917-1945)]. This grandson may have passed the Jonas surname had he lived, but with his death William Jonas had no great grand children who were boys. The war killed four of the Jonas sons.

Irwin John Jonas

“I wish that I had more information about Melvin and Irvin. I do have pictures which have been included in this history. If you (the reader) have any additional information please let me know so it can be included in a future edition.

Melvin Andersen Jonas Portrait

“Melvin Andersen Jonas was born 31 March 1917 in Richmond, Cache County, Utah. He was given a priesthood blessing 1 July 1917. He was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 31 August 1925. He was ordained a Deacon 3 December 1929; a Teacher 12 February 1933, and a Priest 21 June 1937. He married Doris Everts 17 March 1944 and died just over four months after he was married on 16 July 1944. The Deseret News – 20 July 1944 p. 14, has the following obituary. “Houstin Texas. Lt. Melvin Jonas. Richmond – Funeral services for Lt. Melvin Jonas, 27, who drowned Sunday in the San Marcus California River, Will be conducted Sat. at 2 P.M. in the Richmond tabernacle by Bishop Erastus Johnson.”

“John Irvin Jonas was born 2 September 1921 at Thatcher, Bannock [Franklin] County, Idaho. His first name was probably given to him in behalf of his uncle, John Nelson Jonas, who died about two years before Irvin’s birth. Irvin was given a priesthood blessing 5 February 1922 and was baprized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 19 February 1931, and confirmed the same day. He was ordained a Deacon 1 April 1934 and a Teacher 27 February 1938. He was married 17 June 1943 when he was 21 years old at Rochester, Minnesota. Their only son, Robert Irvin Jonas was born 12 February 1944 at Logan, Utah. His son was four month old, less one day, when John Irvin died. The Salt Lake Tribute 8 August 1944 p. 11, and the Deseret News 8 August 1944 p. 5 have the following information. “Sgt. Irvin Jonas, 22, Richmond. Husband of Mrs. Mary [Popwitz] Jonas and son of Mrs. Lillian C. Jonas died 11 July 1944. Died in action in France.

Gaylen Thompson Jonas

“Gaylen Thompson Jonas was born 14 March 1925 at Logan, Utah. He was 6′ 2” tall and weighed over 200 pounds when he enlisted in the US Marines 19 August 1942. He was just 17 years and 5 months old when he enlisted. He went to San Diego, California to be trained with the 2nd Mormon battalion. He went overseas Jan 1943. He died 19 September 1944 when he was 19 years, 6 months and 5 days old. He was buried overseas for four years and 4 days and then was reburied 23 September 1948 at the Elysian Burial Cemetery in Murray, Utah. Here his body was laid next to his youngest brother, William Thompson Jonas, and now his parents are there, too. The Deseret News – 24 October 1944 p. 5, has an obituary.

“Gaylen was given a priesthood blessing 5 July 1929 by his father. He was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 25 November 1933. He was confirmed 3 December 1933 by his father. He was ordained a Deacon 4 July 1937 and a teacher 29 January 1940. Temple work was done for Gaylen by his father 8 March 1950. Gaylen had visited his father two different times after his death and asked for his temple work to be done.

“The following is quoted from the April 1943 edition of the Millcreek Courier, which was the ward paper for William and Mary Jonas. “Gaylen was born in Logan on March 14, 1925. He came so near being born on Friday 13th that Mrs. Jonas was on the verge of asking the President to set the clock ahead about 24 hours to insure for her son a lucky beginning. Gaylen enjoys fishing and riding horses. The horse however on one occasion became just a little peeved and didn’t enjoy one bit the caress bestowed upon it by our hero. Being kicked in the face by one of the beasties isn’t a pleasant experience as Gaylen will tell you. He is a member of the 2nd Mormon Battalion having enlisted July 6, 1942. He is the proud possessor of a medal for sharpshooting and is a private in the Marines. Since they entered the service, the paths of Gaylen and Maynard have crossed and they have spent some enjoyable moments together under the palms where Pacific breezes blow. We wish them many more such meetings whenever the opportunity arises.”

“Gaylen, before joining the Marines, had received a severe wound in his leg which could have kept him from military service. But Gaylen would volunteer even though his parents encouraged him to consider not going, he being only 17 years old.

“Two of the many letters that Gaylen wrote will now be included. Mailed 23 September 1943. “Little Brother, well here’s a letter all of your own. Well your eight years old now. Your getting to be a big boy now. When you get big you will make a good Marine. Be nice to your teachers and make good marks in school. Be good until I come home and I’ll bring you a nice, big present. Do you still have your rabbits I gave you? Tell me how many cows and calves we have now. I got to go to bed now. I’m still your pal, Buddy. Your big Brother, Gaylen.”

“This next letter was written 10 June 1944. “Dear Pap, I received four letters from you and ten from Mom. You can see our mail was held up for sometime. I don’t think I will be able to see Del for sometime as we are headed in different directions. Vaughn will sure snap out of it sometime. I was hoping he would get into the M. Marines. I guess it is just as well that he went into the Navy because he may learn a trade that will help him when he gets out sometime. Maynard is on a sub. he travels mostly between Pearl Harbor and Brestone. He doesn’t get much danger but his work is very important. Well pop that makes four of us in the service. I hope we are safely able to get out of this war okay. Tell mom, Grandma and little buddy hello. Love, Gaylen.”

“Two of the people Gaylen served with wrote home to the Jonas family to express their sympathy and to tell the history of Gaylen’s death. The first letter is from Richard B. Wentworth.

“Ebba Thompson, I have been trying to find out P.F.C. Jonas’ address ever since his death. I knew he lived in Salt Lake, but his correct home address I have been unable to obtain or I would have written sooner. I believe I knew Jonas longer than anyone else in the battery. I knew him when he was in the 155 M.M. Batt. and I am proud to say I am one of the many friends that he had while in the Marines. In all the time that (I) knew him I very seldom ever saw him without a smile and a good word for anyone. On Sept. 19th the regiment asked for volunteers to do stretcher bearer duty at the front. There were 9 of us who volunteered for this duty. On this island we knew full our odds of coming out were practically nill. I meant that we would all be exposed continually to enemy fire like ducks in a shooting gallery from the start. We all split up and worked pairs. Jonas and I carried three wounded and went back. A man had been shot in the chest just forward of the front lines after knocking out the pillbox. We went out after him and got caught in enemy machine gun crossfire. Jonas was killed immediately. You may be assured that he never suffered for a moment… I know that this is not in the smallest way adequate, these few words that I have written. So feel perfectly free to write me personally and ask any questions. You can always write my mother if I should change address and she will give it to you…

“This next letter was written by Sgt. L. E. Byington 20 January 1945. “Dear Mrs. Jonas, It sure was a pleasure to hear from you. I want you to know if there’s anything I can do please don’t hesitate to ask I’ll be only glad to help out in anyway I can. When I come home I sure will come and see you all. Gaylen often told me “Blondy I want you to meet my folks when we get a furlough, they are the best parents a guy could want.” He always called me Blondy. He sure thought a lot of his aunt Miss Thompson too. Most people don’t figure that letters from relations interest other people but he used to let me read some of her letters. He sure thought a lot of her. I took two pictures of Gaylen but one negative must have got lost in the mail when I sent it home. I’ve already sent Miss Thompson one picture of Gaylen and another fellow and I. And I told her if she wanted the negative she could write to my folks in Hooper and they’d sent it to her… Sgt. Rawlings and I and three other members of Gaylens platton and three Seabees were there at the dedication of Gaylens grave. Sgt. Rawlings said a wonderful prayer. Yes. I know Corp. Wentworth also. He told me how it happened. It wasn’t compulsory that they went, they asked for volunteers and well Gaylen was the kind of guy who lent a hand wherever a hand was needed regardless of danger. Why things like this happen to our closest friends I’ll never know but his name will never go unremembered. I had to stay on board ship to watch our galley equipment and when I reach camp I was told about him. At first I couldn’t believe it. I was just stunned. It’s just like losing a brother. Gaylen and I used to be in the mess hall together back in San Diego. We used to go on liberty together too. Every time I think about it I’d like to kill a dozen… Those that we’ve captured said they knew they’d lose. All they held out for was to kill. They said you’ll win the war but it will cost you… Well, Mrs. Jonas I’ve enjoyed your letter very much. I’m going to save it so I can always remember you folks and I’m going to try my best to meet you all some day soon. May God be with you always, a friend. Stf. Sgt. L. E. Byington.”

“The next letter is from the secretary of the Navy. “The President of the United States takes pride in presenting the Bronze Star Medal posthumously to PRIVATE FIRST CLASS GAYLEN T. JONAS, UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS RESERVE, for service as set forth in the following Citation: For heroic service while serving with the Twelfth Antiaircraft Artillery Battalion, Fleet Marine Force, in action against enemy Japanese forces on Peleliu, Palau Islands, 19 September 1944. Courageous in the fact of terrific fire from Japanese guns, Private First Class Jonas volunteered to serve as a stretcher bearer during the evacuation of the wounded from the front lines. After the establishment of a shuttle system, he operated between the high ground dominated by hostile enemy snipers and, having assisted in the successful removal of several wounded men, was returning to the front lines to render further assistance when mortally wounded by a Japanese sniper. By his self-sacrificing spirit and daring efforts to save the lives of others, Private First Class Jonas upheld the highest tradition of the United States Naval Service. He gallantly gave his life for his country.”

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My 9/11 20th Commemoration

Many are more eloquent than me. Many have shared their memories of that fateful day, where they were at, what they were doing, and how they felt. I wish to sing with that chorus.

9/11 2021 at the Ross home. My shadow, Lillie, Aliza, Hiram, James, and Amanda.

I am not really certain why I felt more sensitive or emotional today. There was really no change from the 15, 18, or 19 year anniversary. But I felt myself pondering and deliberating, moved to tears multiple times by music and commemorative videos. I honored the 20th anniversary in Burley, Idaho with my family. I pulled my journal from 2001 to see what I wrote then. Here are a couple of excerpts.

“The past days are days never to be forgotten. Shock, anguish, anger, and peace. Not only catastrophic terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington D.C. which I shall not rehearse. They leave me in such sorrow for those people. I have wept several times. My little heart strings are tried in many ways. Such loss of life. Also a sense of awe in the brute power this government has. The whole world is shuttering at the thought of America angry. Even Germany, England, and France are quick to say we are on your side more in fear than just loyalty. It looks as if we may go to war. Even Afghanistan is quick to say they will do what we want. A country not totally cooperative in the past.” Recorded 13 September 2001.

“It is strangely imaginable how much life can change in the space of a few days… I was impressed that Friday was a national day of prayer. I listened to a portion of the service at that National Cathedral in Washington D.C. I was very moved, especially with the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The church also had a service I saw a small part of. A service done by the church in the tabernacle. A very moving scene with the two huge flags draped behind the choir… Although I had to work Sunday I knew would be a hard day for me. I had high emotions and with the tragedy this week… Sacrament was amazing. I sat with Paul & Kathryn [England]. The Bishopric all spoke and several musical numbers. The Hughes brothers sang ‘Lord, Make Me an Instrument of they Peace.’ Kathryn sang ‘In My Father’s House There are Many Mansions.’ The Lowes did a medley with Bonnie of ‘Where can I turn for Peach, Abide with Me, and I need Thee Every Hour.’ One of the things that stuck out with the meeting was we need to forgive, but justice must be served. The opening hymn was ‘America.’ Powerful.” Recorded 17 September 2001.

I didn’t write as much as I thought I might have, especially with the vivid memories I have. 11 September 2001 was what 22 November 1963 was to my parents. 11 September 2001 was what 7 December 1941 was for my grandparents. So it is through the generations before. Where and what they were doing when they heard about x, y, or z. The assassination of Lincoln or Garfield or Ferdinand. The sinking of the Reuben James or the Bismarck. Or the surrender of Cornwall. I guess it depends on what generation or the incident.

Here is my story of 11 September 2001. I was living with Gary & Lena Hughes at 368 Santa Fe Ave, Branson, Missouri. I managed the dinner theater for the Hughes Brothers. As such, I worked late evenings and usually got up in the morning to an empty home. I often got up and prepared for the day, ate breakfast, and usually practiced the piano and singing. Most of the time the local radio was playing in the background, the station usually 1930s-1950s music.

This morning was different. I woke up and I remember thinking the day was heavy. The radio was not on, I did not practice. It was quiet and solemn. I ate and headed to the theater for the first show of the day. The drive to the theater was usually less than 10 minutes.

I turned on the radio half way to the theater. There was discussion about damage to a skyscraper and confusion on which of the buildings had been hit. I did not get enough information to know where or what had happened. But I understood there was a potential attack on the United States.

I arrived at the theater and I could sense the pandemonium. It was big, whatever had happened. But the buses were arriving and we needed to get the people seated and ready for the first show. Some of the people were just as unaware as me, others were visibly upset, others were just emotionless. As the time got closer there was a sense of panic of whether to cancel, how to alter the show, what to do moving forward. The information coming to us from the office was becoming more clear as to what had happened. The show started late. It was going to be mostly impromptu.

Elder Evan Wagley in front of the Hughes Brothers Theater, Branson, Missouri, I believe 2002.

I watched from the balcony as Jason Hughes welcomed the audience. He gave an update for everyone present. Asked whether the show could start with a prayer. A prayer was uttered. I don’t recall if it was first or not, but the Hughes Brothers sang their version of Secret Prayer. It still haunts me today, the memory, the song. We were communing in a theater church. There were hymns, patriotic music, and a smattering of other songs. It is all fuzzy to me now 20 years later, but Secret Prayer is the show for me. I was likely back and forth between the offices and the balcony of the theater. The response at intermission and afterward was extremely positive. Those people had been uplifted.

Here is a link to the Hughes Brothers singing the song.

https://fb.watch/7ZgEY7GbIs/

As the day went on it was interesting to see the reactions of individuals. There was a general consensus we were headed to war. Some were so distraught that our nation and way of life was ending. Others were hopeful this was an isolated incident. There were many tears and emotions were high. One individual in the office was trying to figure out ways to avoid the draft that was sure to come. I was turning 22 that same month, prime age. Do we enlist or just wait it out. Others commented about their parents and the bombing of Pearl Harbor and how they mobilized.

My Grandfather Ross and Grandmother Jonas had both planted a seed in my heart and a desire to serve in the military. I looked forward to the opportunity and yet feared what might yet come. Too this day, I still wonder how I will yet serve and get that honorable flag on my casket.

As the days pressed forward we watched a revitalization of unity in faith and our nation. I do not believe it was the time I felt the strongest for my country, but it was the time when it was the most palpable.

That is all I recall of the day looking back. My journal helped me recall the international unity and coalescing against terror and evil. I do long for the days of trying to do what is right for the nation as opposed for the party or individual. May those days again return, but not due to some terrible tragedy. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be in the cards. But one can hope. Whether in this life of the next, it will come. “It’s the place where dreams come true.”

Elder Spencer Lewis and me at Mt. Vernon Missouri, I believe mid September 2001.
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Visit from Grands

This week brought some happy differences from the mundane run.  Not at all to give the impression that life is mundane though.  The longer I live, the more I realize it is just like beauty, all in the life of the beholder.  There are those people wandering their lives thinking they are a nobody and with nothing great in their character or soul.  Then there are those people who find fascination, excitement, and life in all there is about them.  They are a different breed.

Somehow, I feel like in Richmond, I walk through a load of people with no excitement in their lives.  Life is a labyrinth for them to wander and walk.  There are so few who are in it for the game, and the experience.

The great Samuel Clemens, a fascinating man.  One who watched the every move of those about him with great detail.  Their every movement captured their personality for him.  That is one of the things that made him such a great writer.  He was able to take those little details and wind them into a story and make the characters that much more real. 

Suppose it would be the experience of the riverboat pilot which would teach you even more closely to watch the details of the water.  The slightest quiver could mean life or death.  Just his assumed name of Mark Twain shows a certain yearning.

Earlier this week I was able to pick the brain of a man who I found to be very fascinating.  A silent man in the past, but who gave voice this week.  I wanted to hear his story.  So I started to inquire and found some wonderful stories.

Having William Borah fresh on my mind, I was thinking of the honour of the President of the United States coming to visit you in your home state.  Senator Borah toured with him and introduced him to all audiences that he was presented before.  For some reason this has really lingered with me the past weeks.  President Roosevelt paying one of the greatest honours to a man of the opposite party.  President Franklin Roosevelt went to Republican Idaho and toured with its Senator.  It also showed the distinction of Senator Borah.  This really has hit home with the latest election.

So it was with greatest delight that I wandered through the mind and history of Mel Thompson.  Learning he moved with his family to Nyssa, Oregon in the mid 30’s.  They moved up there and basically homesteaded a new territory.  Knowing many of my own family would move to that same area within the next 10 years I really sought to pick his brain. 

Family history and my delving into history met ironically in the mind of Mel.  He told of the experience when he was still in school that the President of the United States came to town.  Yes sir, little Nyssa, Oregon welcomed the President.  I knew who one of the men was who traveled with him, the same Senator Borah.

These stories come to life for me when I can go to the places these events happened.  But they come so much more alive when I know a person and can learn from firsthand experience.  Like sitting on the porch of the Price home in Malad, Idaho where Senator Borah visited with Helen Daniels Price’s father.

Having been to Nyssa several times in my life, the latest just in 2005 when I traveled out there with a visit to Parma.  The Amalgamated Sugar Factory, with which Dad was closely tied for a good 25 years.  Cannot forget the Sharp family members who moved, and some of which still live in Malheur County.  The Fort Boise replica is not far away either.  Oh, and the elusive Rhoda Christensen Davenport Pappas Halan who wrote letters from there, but that is the end of the story.  I have found no more.

All truth can be circumscribed into one great whole.  That truth certainly extends beyond the theoretical.  That truth engulfs us into it as well.  Funny thought, to consider ourselves the truth, but in essence all things are truth.  Whether we like or live it or not; even our lying is in truth and will be treated as such.  Our lives mingle, intertwine, and are very much related to each other.  How could one ever conceive that their actions don’t affect another?  President Roosevelt, Senator Borah, and in the school yard where the children were let out from class to go out to the street to see the President’s motorcade prove that point.  One of those children had a face, had a personality, and had the name of Melvin J Thompson.

Last weekend, we went to Washington to attend the temple, to see Amanda’s grandparents, and to witness of a baby blessing.  It was a great weekend, but turned even better when Amanda’s grandparents came to stay with us for an evening.  An honour I would be willing to give a lifetime to do with one of my sets of grandparents.  (I suppose I am giving a lifetime to do so!)  It will yet come to pass and I will cherish that day.

We attended the Washington Temple Saturday morning.  Amanda and I were asked to be the witness couple for the session.  That was our second time.  Shanna just thought that was something else.  I wish I could have done an endowment with any of my grandparents, living I mean.  It bothers me even still today my Grandfather, my only living grandparents, chose not to come to our sealing.  For what reason I do not know, and probably prefer not to know.  There again, how woven our lives are together.  That the mere presence, or absence thereof, would so affect me.  What if Mel Thompson had not been in the audience that day?  Who would ever have known?  Nobody would have known, but now I do.  Somehow it rings a siren to my soul and brings back me back to the reality of the past.  It seems so far distant sometimes.  But now that nameless face has altered my life some 70 years later.  Even further, all those who read this will be altered to one degree or another, by this events significance.  That says nothing of all the other individuals present that day.  How many of them told that experience later in life, how many wrote it down, how many family members recall that event today.  I would venture that at least one somewhere, somehow, even if from a recorded record.

Our families were tied a little more closely that day in Washington and the following convo.  The drive back to Richmond brought out the stories of childhood in Pingree, Idaho; Nyssa, Oregon; and Ogden, Utah.  The stories included excursions to the Pacific and World War II and running into Mel’s brother at Pearl Harbor from Air Craft Carrier #77 to his training at Farragut in northern Idaho.  His missing attendance at the Laie, Hawaii Temple by one day was told followed by his bouts in learning telegraphy for the railroad.  Even those appear to be the most ordinary have a life to tell.  Sadly, it is in the eye of the storyteller that plays just as much of a role as that of the listener.  The listener has to seek and find connections, living what is true empathy.  In return, the speaker has to give of himself in such a way for the other to experience it. 

Is it any wonder the gospel works the way it does?  Not only does one have to be prepared to receive, but the giver has to be prepared to give.  Otherwise neither will give nor receive and both will most certainly not be edified.  One side operating just doesn’t work.  It falls on deaf ears, or is droned out before even arriving at the other party.

Too often there are those who are giving for the wrong reasons make it strained.  Those who seek it for the wrong reasons ruin the experience.

Anyhow, it was a fascinating lesson, and I was able to come and grasp some more of the 60’s.  I have really struggled coming to understand the 70’s and 70’s.  I just cannot tell why.  Even though I was born in the late 70’s, there seems to have been some type of disconnect.I have been fully engulfed in Richmond, Utah in 1961 and 1962 through the eyes of Lillian Coley Jonas Bowcutt.  The lifestyle of a lady in her 60’s though just does not seem to portray the era.  Especially this is true in a community which was still very rural and in some ways behind the times.  I just cannot seem to get the culture of the time.  50’s, 40’s, 30’s, I feel like I have a very good grasp, like experiencing through proxy.  In stepping backwards farther, I struggle to back further and feel it is due to the 60’s and 70’s.  Honestly though, I have not much desire for that time.  I don’t know why.  So I push further back into the 20’s and 1800’s without it. 

Anyhow, I never really got to pick Shanna’s brain much.  I got Mel on such a roll that he was not about to give up his shine.  We both were so enjoying it while the others just slept, knitted, or did something else.  So I regret not picking apart Shanna’s past, which I am sure holds many interesting experiences and stories.  Perhaps another day, with the right experiences will open that book.

They spent the night, and we had breakfast together before Amanda went to school and I went to work.  Mel, Shanna, Dennis, and Gwen toured the Museum of the Confederacy and St. John’s Church.  We invited them for dinner, of which they accepted.  We made white chili for their dinner.  They loved it, we put it over rice with corn.  In the end, games and conversation were out as Dennis seemed not very desirous to stay.  So we bid them adieu and wished them well on their drive home.

It was an experience I will not soon forget.  It is a rare thing such experiences happen.  So much has to align for such events to occur.  A man I had viewed as so quiet proved to be very perceptive, keen, and wise.

I don’t like the tone of this little blog, so I think I will be leaving.  I feel like I am condescending or portraying some type of sage.  Which I am not attempting, but failing.  I am so weak at words it is frustration.  What I would not give to have the power and verse of Mark Twain or Hugh Nibley.